


Cele-Brat-ion!

by Czaritsa (RomaStache)



Series: Red Velvet Reel [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Drinking, Established Relationship, Eye Trauma, Headcanon, Kissing, Mentions of drinking while pregnant but no worries they won't, Mpreg, Slice of Life, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Swapfell Papyrus - Freeform, Swapfell Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Very Minor, and just the characters too i guess, everyone goes to a bar to hang out and its chaotic as is expected haha, i don't think it needs to be tagged but like it ends with implied sex, just a little cutting around the eye that gets healed lol, skelepreg, so many headcanons about how Fell universes interact, so much omg no one shuts up and everyone talks over each other lol, verbal lashing? fighting with words?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-06-27 16:42:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomaStache/pseuds/Czaritsa
Summary: Eight skeletons walking into a bar seems like the perfect setup for a joke. Too bad the punchline seems to have been Stretch's expectations of a fun little get-together with friends.But hey, what's a few baited taunts, stupid posturing, escalatory challenges, heated arguments, well-meaning scolding, clever puns, veiled threats, unnecessary bets, and borderline fights between cross-dimensional clones?





	1. 2 Skeletons Walk Into A Bar...

**Author's Note:**

> Finally introducing the Undertale and Swapfell skeleton brothers! :'D  
> There's a lot of characters to keep track of, so the nicknames of all these characters:
> 
> Classic is _Undertale Papyrus!_  
>  Comic is _Undertale Sans!_  
>  Red is **Underfell Sans!**  
>  Edge is **Underfell Papyrus!**  
>  Blue is Underswap Sans!  
> Stretch is Underswap Papyrus!  
> Black is **_Swapfell Sans!_**  
>  Slim/Puppy is **_Swapfell Papyrus!_**
> 
> My headcanons and interpretations may be different from fanon, but I hope you'll like them anyway~

Stretch squinted into dimly lit bar, past the dancers that seemed to be having an increasingly good time, “Yeah, I don’t see them-“  
  
  
“It’s been _30 minutes,”_ Edge sounded completely nonplussed, scanning the drink menu almost languidly, “Unless the Tale ‘verses and your brother are such...” He paused, tilting his head with a pensive hum, “Weightless drinkers?”  
  
  
“Lightweights, Babe,” Stretch corrected automatically, popping himself into his tiptoes as if that would help him spot their friends in the crush of monsters and people. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t help much.  “And _we’re_ late because _you_ didn’t even start getting ready until 7, so I wouldn’t go around casting stones-“  
  
  
“Mhm,” Edge flipped the drink menu over with a distracted hum, tapping at something with his claw, “They have Honey Mead here.”  
  
  
“Awesome.” Stretch sighed again, using his hands to shade his sockets, “Like, Seriously, I _know_ you like to look good- _and you always d_ o- but I just don’t get why you waited until the last minute. What, the ~*Captain of the Royal Guard*~ needs to be ~*fashionably late*~ to everything?”  
  
  
“It’s an easy way to make a memorable entrance and an impression,” Edge sniffed primly, gesturing at the area behind his husband with an incline of his head, “And all attention is on you- sometimes before you even realize it.”  
  
  
Stretch finally caught sight of Blue, who was now standing up and waving emphatically from a corner booth. Along with several other familiar faces who were starting to wave too.  
  
  
“Papy, over here! I mean, Stretch! Edge!”  
  
  
Stretch grabbed Edge by the hand before he could look too smug, pulling him along to the end of the table quickly, “Good evening, folks, you’re looking snug as can be.”  
  
  
“Just so! They was thinkin’ ya wasn’t gonna show!” Red held his tankard up in greeting, sloshing some of the contents on the table right next to Classic. “I real know my maño, eh?! Shoulda bet on it, heh!”  
  
  
“Yes, Yes, you were right. I’ll just-“ Classic took Blue’s napkin, daintily dabbing at the spot with a long suffering expression. That definitely wasn’t the first (and certainly not the last) time that happened. Stretch didn’t envy him, being sandwiched between Red and Blue.   
  
  
“Red-“ Edge started mildly, only to be cut off by a dazzling smile aimed directly at him. Classic waved his arms as though trying to convey it was no problem, but looking more like he was desperately cutting the air, vibrating in his seat as his smile stretched even wider, “It’s fine! This is a negativity free zone! Because!! You! Or you! Neither of you can afford to be stressed whilLE YOU’RE-“  
  
  
Before Stretch even felt his hand go empty, Edge was in the booth- knee in between Slim’s legs, half-draped over Blue, and both hands covering Classic’s mouth.  
  
  
“Hey-!” Blue started to complain, wriggling away until he met Stretch’s pleading expression, settling down wordlessly, but very sulkily.   
  
  
“Your enthusiasm and excitement are noted and appreciated,” Edge sounded amused, even as he rotated his hands so his fingers were clamping the excited skeleton’s mouth shut, “But this is _privileged information._ Your discretion is **_mandatory!”_**  
  
  
Eyes still bulging in surprise, Classic nodded quickly, looking a little worried.  
  
  
Stretch cleared his throat, giving His counterpart a thumbs up with a wink, “We knew we could count on Ambassador Papyrus.”  
__  
  
That did it. Classic nodded emphatically, eyes sparkling with excitement (or tears?) as he quickly broke Edge’s hold to clasp his hands passionately.  
  
  
“I understand! You can count on me!” Classic tried his best to whisper, but it was still loud enough the table behind them collectively winced and hunched into themselves. “I am a master at keeping secrets, state or otherwise! But! Congratulations! To both of you!”  
  
  
“Thanks man,” Stretch made a little heart with his hands, “Classic, you’re a **_class act.”_**  
  
  
“I’m not sure how I feel about that sentence,” the other skeleton narrowed his eyes suspiciously with a frown, before brightening immediately, “But you’re welcome!”  
  
  
Edge managed to take his hands back at that point, straightening his spine and looking down at Slim primly, “Puppy.”  
  
  
If Slim was at all disturbed at having Edge towering over him, practically sitting in his lap, he gave no outward indication. He simply ducked his head in greeting while still being almost completely engrossed on the baseball game playing over the bar.  
  
  
“Oh, sit, sit!” Classic firmly (but gently) yanked Edge down into the new space between Slim and Blue, motioning Stretch to do the same, “Both of you! Being on your feet for too long isn’t healthy for, um, the um-“  
  
  
“The VIP.... or VIB, as it were,” Comic offered with a wink, sliding closer to Black and patting the spot next to him with a lazy smile, “We’re all sorta family here, so make yourself at home, Big guy.”  
  
  
Stretch grinned, sidling up next to Comic and slinging an arm over his shoulders, “Thanks, lil’ guy, you’re a great berson.”  
  
  
Comic put his arm around Stretch’s back with a chuckle, fingertips just barely visible over the fabric, “Blease, pro, you’re gonna make me plush.”  
  
  
“Ughhhh.” Black finally broke his silence with a sneer, the corners of his mouth twitching in annoyance even as he stubbornly refused to acknowledge anyone. Stretch idly wondered if those two were really that passionate about baseball, or if it was just a convenient distraction. Black’s posture was stiff and straight, while Slim was steadily curling on himself, like they just felt incredibly out of place and uncomfortable. Welp, time to make things more inclusionary then.   
  
  
“Ok!” Stretch rubbed his hands together, “Now that we’re all here, let’s open this lil’ shindig properly! You ready, Babe?”  
  
  
Stretch received that incredulous look Edge had been perfecting over the course of their relationship, rolling his eyes with unnecessary emphasis of how put upon he was... before doing exactly as he was asked. Edge drummed on the table, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with everyone else, as Stretch grinned and swept his arms out dramatically.  
  
  
“Friends, family, and emotionally- repressed multidimensional assholes  who aren’t sure why they’re here-“ Black smiled at that, putting all of his sharp teeth on display. It was deeply unsettling. “It is my pleasure and honor to officially announce the newest addition to our little family-“  
  
  
Edge stopped drumming on Stretch’s cue, expression carefully blank but with that slight twitch to his mouth  that meant he was trying very hard not to smile. “Pancake! They’ll be having their debut bash in February, probably, so keep your sockets out for the deets. Thanks for coming to celebrate with us, it means a _skeleton.”_  
  
  
Classic gasped loudly, eyes bulging out of wide sockets, “Pancake?! Like the food?! Are- are you really-“ He withered when Edge turned his head to glare at him directly, “Um! That’s really creative! And very, very cute! I mean that, honestly!What, uh, what inspired you both to call your child Pancake?!”  
  
  
“It’s a _nickname,”_ Blue answered for them with a slight toss of his head, a note of irritation in his tone, “And I agree! My brother is a very creative and cute monster himself, so _of course_ his child is going to have the most adorable and creative _nickname,_ too!” Just as quickly, his voice lost that edge and he was all smiles again, dreamy stars in his eye sockets, “My little nibling is going to _be_ the _best_ monster ever! Have _the best_ name ever! We’re gonna have the _best_ time together!”  
  
  
Blue looked down at the table with furrowed browbones, smile becoming less sure as he turned towards his brother-in-law, “That’s ok, right, Edge?”  
  
  
To his credit, Edge was able to force down his surprise before it became too obvious, giving Blue a decisive nod. “Of course,” his voice had the usual bravado and self-assurance, but Stretch could hear the uncertainty in the undertone, “In fact, I’ll be counting on you to keep Red from getting them into unreasonable mischief. ”  
  
  
“Just the regular, reasonable kind of mischief, then?” Blue asked wryly, but his smile was weak, clearly disappointed with the answer.  
  
  
“If they take after me,” Edge puffed out his chest proudly, slipping into his more boisterous persona as he gestured with his hand dramatically. He was obviously uncomfortable, too, unable to interpret Blue’s new mood, “That will be inevitable!”  
  
  
It was awkward and stilted, and Stretch found them both glancing in his direction for guidance, but they were _trying._ His husband and brother were trying very hard to actively get along, after months of bare minimum pleasantries and steadfastly avoiding each other. Stretch couldn’t help tearing up, wiping at the edge of his sockets with a sniffle.  
  
  
“That confirms _that_ then,” Black sniffed dismissively, resting his chin on his palms as he leaned against the table, “But it’s not much of a victory if you have to _share_ it.”  
  
  
“Huh?” Stretch dabbed at his eyes with the handkerchief Blue had passed him, distracted by the feel of Edge’s boot brushing along his femur. “What?”  
  
  
“Ya _sure,_ Lil’ Tyrant?!” Red was positively giddy, “Ain’t no one sure who’s knocked up!” He flapped his hands emphatically, clearly several drinks into the evening, “Don’t say nothin’ yet, let ‘em stew!”  
  
  
“That’s not _entirely_ true,” Blue chimed in from the corner, playing with his bendy straw and pointing it at himself, “Some monsters are sure...”  
  
  
Red put a hand on Classic’s chest just to push him back far enough to pointedly glare at Blue. Classic smoothed the front of his shirt wordlessly, while Red leaned on the table conspiratorially, “There’s a bettin’ pool.”  
  
  
Edge smirked in a way that made Stretch uneasy, resting his chin on his hand, “Oh? Well, in that case~”  
  
  
He called the waitress over, “Two honey meads, some water, and a refill for the table. We’re going to need it.”  
  
  
“You- _or you?!_ -can’t drink!” Classic looked between them, scandalized, then at Comic for confirmation. Comic nodded sagely. “Yes, see?! Alcohol isn’t _as_ bad for pregnant monsters as other things, but it’s still not _good_ for you! It impairs your concentration so your magic goes all funny! Yes, fine, there’s debate about its impact on raw, unused magic- _but why take the chance if you’re making a baby?!”_  
  
  
The waitress came back with a tray of drinks and started putting them on the table, hesitating when Blue and Classic glared at the mead. “Thank you,” Edge told her pleasantly, completely ignoring them and taking both himself.   
  
  
He slid one mug towards Stretch, who took it with palpable unease and hesitation, flinching when Blue smacked his hands down on the table. “Papy, _say_ something! I don’t know what game they’re trying to play, but you shouldn’t just _condone_ it, especially because I don’t think you know either! Don’t just-“  
  
  
“Shh!” Red crawled into Classic’s lap, putting his hands over Blue’s mouth with a scowl, “Pipe down, Baby Blue- ain’t nothin’ goin’ to happen to the squirt. Wait ‘n listen, ya goddamn goofs-“ He turned to give Classic a stern look too, “Got lotsa shitty stuff in this family, but idiocy ain’t one of ‘em.”  
  
  
Although Edge managed to keep himself from reacting to the backhanded compliment, his smile was less threatening and more genuine as he ran a claw along the circuit of the mug. “I’m raising the stakes- another drink of equal or greater value to the pool. I’ll take your bet _and_ the reasoning behind it as suitable colateral.”


	2. Bettin' on the Wrong Hoarse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they struggle to get through this stupid bet, Stretch realizes he had way too high expectations for the evening and Fell monsters are _stress._ He knew that, and yet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late! Really struggled with this one a lot and rewrote it several times, but eh. I guess its supposed to be chaotic and overwhelming anyway lol. 
> 
> Betting on the wrong horse is an idiom that means, "To support a person or thing that ultimately fails."  
> Hoarse refers to when your throat is sore, like from never shutting up and yelling at each other in a crammed booth. :'D

_“Typical,”_ Black let out an annoyed puff of breath, “Your kind are _too_ curious.”  
 _  
  
“My_ kind?” Edge propped his head up on his hand, smirking smugly even as he feigned innocence, “I would have never taken you for a **_coward,_** but appearances can be deceiving, I suppose. Would you like to look at the drink menu?”  
 _  
  
“You!”_ Black tightened his fingers into such a tight fist his knuckles cracked, scowl positively withering. “If you think I’ll be _goaded_ by something so insufferably baiting and **_juvenile-“_**  
  
  
“Put up,” Red popped his p’s for extra emphasis, leveling Black with a flat look, “Or shut up. Ain’t no one got time for yer bullshit- ain’t no one **_care.”  
  
_**  
Black swore under his breath, banging the table once in frustration before turning to his brother, _“Poochi!”_  
  
  
“Poochie?” Comic and Stretch looked at each other, unsure if they had heard correctly.  
  
  
Slim looked up as though startled by being addressed, shoulders tense and sockets blown wide. Feeling so many eyes on him, he hunched in on himself, nervously picking at the myriad of bracelets on his wrists.  
  
  
“Tell these overly curious buffoons which one you bet on,” Black sounded incredibly bored, waving his hand in the air dismissively, “And make up some inane reason why- you’ve already sunk enough money into this _pointless game_. Ah, wait- this ** _crepe.”_**  
 _  
  
That_ skirted a dangerous line. With a fearsome scowl, Edge slammed his hands onto the table as he pushed himself to his feet, looking very much like he was about to punch out Black. Unthinkingly, Classic grabbed his hands, squeezing them with a nervous smile as he gestured to the Slim with his chin, “Er, Slimjim! Once more, big voice, please!”  
  
  
Blue sat up from his slump, looking confused, “Slimjim? The jerky?” He asked quietly, but Classic didn’t seem to hear him.  
  
  
Obviously uncomfortable with so much attention on him, Slim looked down at the table with a shrug. When Black started drumming his fingers impatiently, however, he let out a shaky sigh and pointed at Stretch.  
  
  
“Cuz...” He whispered to himself, snapping his bracelets against his bones with furrowed browbones. Slim started running his pointer finger along every bead on his first bracelet, flicking it up with his claw to catch on his palm before repeating the process, “...Ya know...”  
  
  
Kinda weirded out but mostly sympathetic to how unhappy the hunched up skeleton looked, Stretch turned towards Comic conspiratorially.  
  
  
“What obvious reason?” He whispered loudly, “Does this hoodie make me look fat?”  
  
  
“Nope,” Comic winked as he whispered back, “I can’t _Fat_ hom why he’d say that.”  
  
  
Slim smiled immediately, cheekbones dimpling as he scrunched his face up in a repressed laugh, “Nyeh.”  
  
  
“Cute.”  
  
  
Black choked on something, turning to cough into his elbow even as he waved off Comic’s offer to pat his back. He finished the rest of his drink in a big gulp, eyes still closed and coughing lightly, although it seemed oddly forced. Before Stretch could wonder what any of that meant, Slim was waving down the waitress with with wide, enthusiastic hand gestures.  
  
  
“Bloody Mary, extra fixins, yeah?” He winked at her, gold fangs glinting in a crooked half-smile, “S’gonna be a long night, Doll.”  
 _  
  
What._ Stretch felt his browbones creep up in growing confusion, unable to reconcile those seemingly contradictory personalities. Wasn’t he just a nervous, twitchy mess? Where did the flirting come from-? As Black recovered his composure, Slim lost his- pulling his hood over his sockets and crushing his arms against the blush overtaking his skull.   
  
  
Red and Edge were very pointedly ignoring him, as though this freak out wasn’t happening at all. Did they not compliment each other back home? Why were they so shy? They weren’t shy about literally anything else… Stretch was _never_ going to understand Fellverse monsters.  
  
  
“This is extremely weird!” Classic spoke up loudly and cheerfully, puffing out his chest as he pointed at himself, “Therefore I, the Great Ambassador Papyrus, will return normalcy by explaining my bet! And reasoning!”  
  
  
He dropped his voice to a loud whisper, “With the disclaimer that betting is a form of gambling, and gambling can be a very serious issue! Moderation is key, and if you or any of your loved ones are struggling with it, there are resources available!” He winked audibly, looking at Black earnestly, “I can be discreet! Just let me know how I can help.”  
  
  
Whereas Black looked confused and annoyed, Slim seemed absolutely delighted, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle.  
  
  
“As’uga, Papz,” he told Classic warmly, going back to playing with his bracelets as his bright smile dropped into something more neutral.  
  
  
“I don’t know what that means, but thank you Slimjim, I think!” Classic answered just as brightly, before tapping his chin thoughtfully, “Where was I?”  
  
  
“Talkin’ about dear Aunt Sal ‘n the chickens that roost in the ol’ barn,” Comic supplied helpfully, grin growing wider as his brother turned to him in complete outrage.  
  
  
“Don’t be silly, Sans!” Classic tossed his head imperiously, sounding annoyed, “Everyone knows it’s _cows_ that roost in the barn!”  
  
  
He sighed loudly, “Where was I? Ah, Yes, I actually bet it was... you, Eggo!”  
  
  
Stretch and Comic practically collapsed on themselves snickering, trying not to burst out laughing. Even Black seemed to be covering his mouth to avoid smiling.  
  
  
Slim didn’t look up, but reached over to rest a light hand on Classic’s shoulder... who looked embarrassed. Edge’s cool look in their direction sobered them quickly, but his voice was kind as he turned to his counterpart, “I understand. It’s difficult to keep track of so many nicknames.”  
  
  
Classic smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “I’m sorry, Papyrus- I just seem to forget everyone’s nickname when I’m thinking of your _real_ names. I understand why we do it, and I hope we’re all satisfied with our nicknames- but it is still just so very, very _frustrating!”  
  
  
_ Expression softening, Comic leaned his elbows on the table, “Aw, Pap-“  
  
  
“It’s _fine!_ I’m over it!” Classic waved his brother off cheerfully, all smiles and overly excited energy. Stretch wasn’t entirely convinced. “Anyway, it’s because Sketchers is very much like Sans, and Sans- “  
  
  
Despite their best attempts, most of the skeletons at the table couldn’t help smiling.  
  
  
“Excuse me, Chexmix is absolutely _terrible_ at taking care of himself! Ergo, Sketchers is too! Ergo, he wouldn’t have the discipline! To resist so many bad habits and temptations! It would be terribly difficult for him-“  
  
  
Classic jerked towards Stretch suddenly, “Not that I don’t think you are not capable of doing these things! Oh no, I think you could absolutely do these things! If so motivated! Which you probably _would_ be in that situation! In which case, if my guess is incorrect, I very much believe in you! Because I know you will be the best parent you can be!”  
  
  
Stretch laughed in good humor, grabbing Comic’s glass in a toast, “Guilty as charged! No offense taken, bud.”  
  
  
Classic beamed, turning back to Edge enthusiastically, “So it can’t be Sketchers! Well, probably not. And, well, you are kind of a control freak, Egg- eh, Edge! It would be better for your peace of mind to be in charge! And you are also very disciplined! And that is why it can only be you! Likely!”  
  
  
Before Edge could say anything, he turned to Blue on his right. “Bluebell?”  
  
  
“Oh, I already know the answer-“ Blue toyed with the straw in his glass, jolting when Classic gasped loudly.  
  
  
“What?!” He was indignant, “And you didn’t even give us a hint?! How could you?! So this is pointless?! You even put a bet in!”  
  
  
“I literally _just_ said so!” Blue was drawing himself up on his knees in an instant, defiantly glaring only inches away from Classic’s face, “I didn’t put a bet in!”  
  
  
“Blue,” Stretch called out wearily, making a ‘sit down’ gesture with one hand.  
  
  
“No.” Black’s scowl was fearsome, managing to look annoyed and disappointed at the same time as he turned towards Red, “It was **_you.”_**  
  
  
Blue sat down with a toss of his head, “See?! That was slander!”  
  
  
“Me ** _what,_** cuppycake?” Red put both his elbows on the table, looking smug as shrugged in an infuriatingly flippant matter. “Lie? Cheat? _Of fuckin’ course!_ What kinda star-eyed brute’o ain’t fuckin’ _check,_ eh?”  
  
  
“ ‘Kinda gamesman fesses up?” Slim leaned on the table, gold teeth glinting in a lopsided smile, “Black’d call that’d confession _. I’d_ say yer just a dumbass.”  
  
  
“HAH!” Red threw his his head back in uproarious laughter, smile wide and sharp as he dug his fingers into the tabletop, “Takes one t’know one, wardog!”  
  
  
“Your bet is cancelled and the money you put into the pool forfeit,” Black nursed his new drink like he had a headache, “On account of poor sportsmanship and being _stupid_ enough to blatantly confess to it.”  
  
  
“What?!” Red slammed his fist down on the table, sizing up against Black on his side, “Ya fuckin’ hue’ggon-!”  
  
  
Edge finally spoke up, sounding almost bored, “When one is burned, it’s natural they would seek an expedient and convenient salve,” He rested his chin on his fist,  a challenging glint to his eyes, “Who knew _money_ was what soothed a royal guard the most? Or perhaps it’s a more _personal_ problem?”  
 **  
  
Oh no.** Stretch didn’t like getting involved in this fellverse bullshit- too much posturing and exaggerated reactions that made it hard to tell when a _real_ fight was about to break out or not- but Black’s eyelights went out. And his skull flushed a dark purple as positively murderous intent started to radiate off of him. _Fuck._  
  
  
“Black!” He knew this was a terrible idea even before he felt everyone’s attention shift to him, trying very hard to ignore the alarmed expression on Blue’s face. “So, buddy-“  
  
  
Edge gave no outward indication of concern, but he did kick him under the table. **Hard.** “What’d you bet? Betcha agreed with your bro, right?”  
  
  
Black stared at him, hard, for a long moment- long enough Edge had dropped the pretense of indifference to grab onto Stretch’s legs in a vice grip to yank him away at a moment’s notice. Red had a bone attack clenched in his fist. As did Blue, and Slim was sitting up alert and his eye- Yeah, ok, fuck-  
  
  
“Let’s all calm down and have another drink, yeah?” Despite his laidback demeanor, there was a hard undertone to Comic’s words that sent a chill across the whole table. “If you Fellies got something to settle, take it outside. I _like_ this bar, and it’d be a real shame if we were kicked out because a couple of _boneheads_ couldn’t play nice.”  
  
  
Comic gave a long sigh as he leaned back into the couch cushions, “S’not _my_ place to say, but I don’t think Stretch’s having all that great a time. I know _I’m_ not, and I don’t think Paps ‘n Blue are either.”  
  
  
No one said anything.  
  
  
“Well...” Stretch appreciated the attempted save, but this new chastised atmosphere of morose but still combative monsters wasn’t much better. Comic was looking like he regretted getting involved.  
  
  
“All’s fair in love and war, right? I was hoping we’d be heavier on the love tonight,” Stretch waved his arm vaguely, shrugging with a forced smile, “But I’ll take what I can get. Let’s just, uh, lighten up on the liquor, and-“  
  
  
 ** _“Fine.”_ ** Black was still seething, arms crossed tightly as he tossed his head imperiously, “Your money is _still_ forfeited.”  
  
  
“What?!” Red actually looked surprised, slamming his fist onto the table with a snarl, “What fer?!”  
  
  
Blue cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, “You _just_ admitted to **_cheating,_** bonehead!”  
  
  
“Shh!” Red made an odd flicking gesture at Blue, “Buss out, Baby Blue! Always such a goddamn metich’!” He turned back to Black comparatively, completely ignoring Stretch who put his head down on the table. “S’ain’t-“  
  
  
“I’m being lenient since you seem to have gone completely native,” Black gave Red a withering glare, “If this were in a Fellverse, I would have taken ** _your hand as collateral.”_**  
  
  
“Sans.”  
  
  
Slim was usually so silent and unassuming, it was easy to forget he was there- but his quiet voice held tremendous power. He held a silent staring contest with Black for a long time, until Black finally looked away with a derisive toss of his head, “Like I said: _I’m being lenient._ Pray I don’t change my mind.”  
  
  
Slim sighed wearily, leaning back on his seat and tossing his head over the head rest. He lifted his arm and started playing with his bracelets again, but at least everyone settled down. Even Red, who had Edge’s hand clamping his jaw shut firmly.  
  
  
“I’m still not sure what gave you the _ridiculous_ notion that _I_ would deign deign to participate in something so _trivial,”_ Black scoffed, leaning back against the seat as he crossed his arms. **_Ugh._** And Edge had wanted- had especially specifically specified _this asshole_ needed to be invited too. Stretch eyed the honey mead, only inches away from his face, longingly.  
  
  
“However! If I had placed a bet, which I am not confirming I did-“ He understood now why the Fellverses tended to drink heavily among each other, but if they knew it was going to make them more combative, why did they even meet up at all? It couldn’t be that they actually _enjoyed_ each other’s company, could it? “Then it would have been on **_that_** one. For _obvious_ reasons.”  
  
  
He didn’t need to look up to know Black was talking about him. “Forreal, what are you guys talking about?” Stretch turned his head to look at Slim, who just hunched further in on himself. “Is it my stats? The lack of fangs? My rounded edges?”  
  
  
“Nothing worth worrying about,” Edge gave each Fell monster a cool look before turning back to his husband, “As you well know, value judgements based solely on cursory stat CHECKs are neither accurate nor effective.”  
  
  
Oh yeah. During that minor freak out after Dyna’s checkup, Edge had told him Red was thinking along Underfell lines when he made those caustic comments. Something about Edge’s stats being better for defense of a pregnant partner, so it’d make more sense if Stretch was actually the pregnant one- yeah, okay. It would make sense other Fell monsters would come to that same conclusion too. And they would assumed Edge had too, and that as a couple, they had decided to go the ‘logical’ route. This was gonna be explosive to see play out- hopefully no actual explosions involved though.  
  
  
Stretch tuned back into the tail end of a surprisingly civil argument between Edge and Black  
  
  
“-And CHECKs won’t tell you a monster’s motivations or reasonings, their fears and specialties, which makes it _incomplete!_ ” Edge slammed his fist onto the table. “And they’re also very easy to manipulate into displaying false data!”  
  
  
“What?!” Black looked honestly horrified, which seemed like an incredibly out of place emotion on his face, “They are _not_ easy to ‘manipulate’- they have some of the strictest protocols and tightest security of all display mechanics! Conscripts can’t even change the color of their _names_ without a royal reprimand!”  
  
  
“Conscripts?” Edge blinked, flabbergasted, “A _royal_ reprimand? Who has time-?”  
  
  
“Um,” Classic had been shifting uncomfortably throughout every tense period, murmuring to Blue in hushed voices, before raising his voice again, “We haven’t heard from Sans yet! My Sans! Chexmix! No, wait- Cosmic! Er, Comic!”  
  
  
Comic opened a single eye with a widening grin, not dozing quite as deeply as he made it seem, “Honest _mix_ take, Bro, no sweat _urn. ”  
_  
  
Blue and Classic rolled their eyes in unison, giving each other shared looks of annoyance. “Mix-take was good, points for well-timed creativity- but sweat-urn was _weak!“_  
  
  
Comic’s smile just seemed to grow, leaning forward conspiratorially, theatrically whispering, “Should I _Apollo_ gize?”  
  
  
Classic sighed, resting his head in his hands, “That’s a reach, but better than your usual material. Please just answer the question, brother.”  
  
  
“Always so _Sirius,_ bro, but ok- I’ll finish this off with a _Big Bang, ”_He winked at Stretch, who had given him an appreciative salute. “Well, I put my bet in with my buddy Stretch here.”  
  
  
Stretch hung his head with a sigh, “I guess I’m just more _Pap_ ternal than I realized, a bon _Dad_ fied old man.”  
  
  
“Nice,” Comic held his hand out for a fist bump, “I figured babies are a _skele_ ton of work on your body, and who better than a _lazybones_ to chill and let Pancake do their thing? Soulings are also gonna do all sorts of weird stuff to your body you can’t control, so a relaxed, carefree attitude is gonna be really helpful.”   
  
  
He sighed, shrugging with a wink towards Edge, “But I’m starting to think I’m out 40g, huh?”  
  
  
Edge’s expression shifted from preoccupied to considering in a moment, silent except for drumming his fingers on the table thoughtfully. He made a point to make and keep eye contact with everyone at the table, smiling almost coyly. With a nonchalant shrug, he slid the mug in Classic’s direction.   
  
  
Stretch took advantage of the stunned silence to help himself to the other mug, “Yay, this one is finally mine~”  
  
  
Then everything got LOUD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support! I appreciate all your kudos and comments so much! ;w;


	3. With Friends Like These...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fell have different ways of expressing themselves- they become chummy by hurling words like weapons and actually almost trading punches!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning! I'm gonna edit the tags real soon, sorry! 
> 
> Warning for:   
> -Lots of really low blows and baiting, throwing words around like weapons, stuff like that!   
> -Eye Trauma- very minor, just a few shallow cuts on the outside of the eye, but it's the threat of it too!
> 
> Uh, I think that's it? Let me know if there's anything else!
> 
> This is my favorite part of this whole chapter! I really wanted to show a little of the differences in Fell vs. Normal tale culture!

 

"OHMYGODWHAAAT?!” Classic clapped both hands on either side of his face, squealing with literal stars in his eyes, “I?!I’M?! RIGHT?!?” Blue managed to catch the mug before it tumbled over the side, placing it on a free coaster with a sigh.  
  
  
Classic positively _screamed,_ dragging Blue and Red into a bone crushing hug. “FUCKIN’!” Red wriggled a hand free, clutching at his soul, “Why?! _Ya knew-!_ D’fuck-“  
  
  
Blue just shrugged,  “I think he’s been planning on doing that since he found out, and just waited for another dramatic reveal.” He winked at Stretch, “I think you’re next.”  
 ** _  
  
“Ya outta yer goddamn mind?!”_** Slim sounded _pissed_ , grabbing Edge’s wrist and shaking him with concerned aggression. Which was weirdly unsettling, since Slim only ever really got mad when his brother was involved. And even then it was a quiet, sharp anger, nothing like this. “Yer gonna get yaself ‘n yer _anata-_ hrgh, half killed without magic-“  
 ** _  
  
“Fuck off!”_** Edge broke his hold after a brief struggle, pulling back Slim’s pinkie until the other skeleton started to crumple in pain. “I don’t **need** magic to deal with the likes of ** _you,_** _desgraciado!_ ”   
  
  
Stretch jolted when Comic patted his back, holding his glass out in obvious invitation, “Well, at least I still got you as my drinking buddy, eh?”  
  
  
Well, Edge looked he had it well in hand, and a broken pinkie wouldn’t kill Slim. Stretch grinned, clinking his mug with gusto, “You know it, lil’ guy.”  
 _  
  
“Kuso!”_ Slim smacked his other hand against the table, “On yer side, dumbass! _Saia-_ ack-!” He garbled out a few more incomprehensible curses. “S’bad idea, man! It ain’t safe-“  
  
  
“So **_what?!”_** Edge finally released the pinky with a loud, dismissive click of his teeth, settling against the cushions sulkily. Slim rubbed his hand ruefully, glaring at Edge with an unplaceable emotion. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself **_without_** magic! I don’t typically ** _need_** to use my magic offensively, and in the event I ** _do,_** I have Red and Stretch!” He reached over to grab Slim’s hood, pulling it over the tense skeleton’s head, exasperated but with the barest hint of fondness, “And I can’t seem to get rid of ** _you_** either, fuckin’ _huevón.”_  
  
  
Black schooled his face back into something more apathetic, but there was still a troubled crease between his sockets, “Slim.”  
 **  
  
“Edge!”**  
  
  
The skeleton in question jolted in obvious surprised, pulling away from the hand that brushed against his shoulder. “What?!”  
  
  
Classic didn’t seem at all disturbed by the sharp reply. “Congrats!” He beamed brightly, “Can I give you a celebratory hug? It’s not everyday your... um, you know, your um-“  
  
  
“Friends?” Stretch supplied with a wink.   
  
  
Classic lit up, “FRIENDS! Are going to have a baby!”  
  
  
“Fine,” Edge only considered it for a moment, but he still tried to play it like he was making a big concession, “But only because you won-“  
  
  
It was Slim who gave him a (surprisingly gentle for a Fellverse monster) shove towards Classic, sticking his tongue out childishly. Before Edge could retaliate, Classic managed to bodily drag him over Blue and into his lap in a surprisingly gentle hug. Although initially stiff, Edge immediately put a ‘stabilizing’ arm around his counterpart’s shoulder, “Classic-“  
  
  
Classic nuzzled him with a happy sigh, “I’m so happy I could cry! I’m so proud of you both! I hope you are very happy!”  
  
  
“I-“ Edge looked away, although he made no more to pull away, skull coloring in a steadily darkening blush, “We-“  
  
  
Stretch made a heart with his hands, “Thanks Paps, we appreciate your sincerity and support. We love you too.”  
  
  
Classic nodded, overwrought with emotion, burying his face in Edge’s shoulder. This time, Edge didn’t try to justify that bone-crushing hug as anything else.  
  
  
“How wonderfully sentimental,” Black clapped sarcastically, expression sour, “Recklessness and poor judgement are hardly cause for celebration in Swapfell, but I suppose only death can cure a fool.”  
  
  
Edge and Red exchanged an amused (forced) look. “Aww, ya gettin’ _soft_ on us, Blackie?” Red rested his head on his hand, “Ya actually ** _care?”_**  
  
  
“Your business is you own,” Black tsk-ed dismissively, actually turning up his (no) nose, “You heard them, _Pochi_ \- his recklessness and poor judgement are neither your concern nor responsibility. Don’t waste your time and energy as a guard dog.”  
  
  
Edge turned to look at Slim with a blank expression, but Classic squeaked as the arm tightened around him, “The sentiment is _appreciated,_ but completely **_unnecessary."  
  
  
_** Stretch looked up from his conversation with Classic, regarding Slim curiously- he seemed to be just sitting there, looking out towards the bar. Slim slumped in his seat unhappily, looking down when Black sneered derisively, “Is that so? With the state of your allies and your magic being blocked?”  
 ** _  
  
“Yes,”_** there was an undercurrent of aggression to Edge’s tone, turning away from Classic to pointedly stare at Black, “I am able to take care of myself, and have _powerful_ allies. Including my _tall, bone dense, and magically-gifted_ husband and  my-“  
 _  
  
“Batshit crazy ‘n willin’ to cheat bro,”_ Red chimed in gleefully, although there was a clear undercurrent of a threat. “‘N **_my_** magic ain’t blocked, so don’t ya try shit, eh?”  
  
  
Black looked insulted, sitting up straight and fixing Red with a terrifying look, “Are you implying **_I_** would exploit the **_weakness_** of a monster foolish enough to put themselves in such a **_vulnerable_** position?”  
  
  
He put a hand to his chest as though mortally wounded, a spark of magic in his scarred eye socket. His voice was faux sweet, dripping venom as he used Red’s preferred pet name against him,  “Sweetheart, you insult me.”  
  
  
“Honor’s fer chumps, ‘n your goody two-shoes act ain’t foolin’ nobody,” Red snarled and bore his teeth, but Black didn’t so much as blink. He smiled unpleasantly. Red jolted suddenly, looking down at his leg with a scowl as though he had been kicked. Slim leaned on the table, hands curled into tight fists and eyelights overly bright and focused.  
  
  
“Don’t.” His voice wasn’t more than a raspy whisper, and yet it was exceedingly clear.   
  
  
“When you’re a monster of my LV and status,” Black smirked, leaning back to sharpen the ends of his claws with a nail file he pulled out of his inventory, “You don’t _need_ to go after easy targets like the common, desperate, and unrefined monster. I can easily afford to be selective and focus exclusively on opponents that meet my _exacting_ standards.”  
  
  
Stretch had been hoping pointedly ignoring them would reduce tensions, but then Black had to reach over and pinch his sleeve. Arm literally rubbing against Comic’s cheek as he buffed his claws on Stretch’s favorite hoodie.  
  
  
“Um, _excuse you.”_ Stretch tugged on his sleeve lightly, but Black didn’t acknowledge him at all. He just maintained steady, defiant eye contact with Edge, flexing his claws in the dim light dangerously. (That was absolutely magic- he was actually using _magic_ to make his _nails_ look scary. What the hell.)  
  
  
“I would hate to cause you any undue anxiety and stress when your health is so **delicate,** so rest assured- _you don’t meet them._ I have no intention of hurting you or your ** _family.”_** He said family like it was a dirty word, turning an almost bored expression to Red as he finally released his grip on the fabric. “But while I will not start any fights, I _will_ finish them. And as a principle, I do not show MERCY, even if the opponent is at a severe disadvantage.”  
  
  
“Ya wanna go, Lil’ Tyrant?!” Red rose to his knees so he was looming over Black, “Ya fuckin’-“  
  
  
“How unexpectedly thoughtful, Captain,” Edge positively purred, slipping back into his original seat next to Slim. “I suppose when the position is **given** rather than **earned** , one can afford such a _luxurious_ attitude.” He reached out to pet the top of the other skeleton’s head like he really was a dog. Slim went stock still, eyes widening and looking uncomfortable, but didn’t move away. “How convenient to have such a faithful dog ever in your shadow, settling for the scraps of his triumphs.”  
  
  
Classic and Blue gave Edge a disapproving look, turning to Slim to provide reassurances- but his eyes were glued to Red, holding a silent staring contest.  
  
  
Black laughed airily, “Such hostility! Did I hit a nerve?” His smile became nasty, “Bold of someone who can’t FIGHT to throw down gauntlets others must pick up. Are you certain your-“ He moved his hand pensively, making a show of searching for the adequate word, _“Lackeys_ are up to the task?”  
  
  
Edge faked surprise, “Surely you’re not implying magic is _necessary_ to win a FIGHT?” He scoffed, folding his arms under his chin, “In my home universe, it would be **unthinkable** for the _Captain of the Royal Guard_ to even entertain the ** _possibility_** of losing a FIGHT.  Am I mistaken in assuming you are not held to a similar standard?“  
  
  
“I find it difficult to assume the threats in your _universe_ compare to the ones we contend with _daily,”_ Black looked torn between being insulted and incredibly confused, “But indulge me: what standard?”  
  
  
“The Captain of the Royal Guard must be able to perform their duties in all situations and in all physical conditions, favorable or unfavorable.” Edge sighed, smiling far too benignly to be considered anything but mocking, _“No?_ I guess our experiences have been **_very_** different then.”  
  
  
“Quite.” Black’s socket twitched, but he continued smoothly, “Are you challenging me to a FIGHT, Captain- ah, wait, that’s not right anymore. You’ve _retired,_ haven’t you?”  
  
  
“I’ve been _promoted,_ actually- it’s General now.” Edge preened, clearly enjoying the flash of surprise in Black’s expression, “The Queen even offered me the title of Commander-in-Chief, but in my current liaison work, general is more useful for my current needs.”  
  
  
“Heh,” Black scoffed dismissively, “I see. We’re your prospects so poor that you were willing to **_betray_** your own, and become a General of a foreign army? **_Is_** there even an army, in this type of place?”  
  
  
Edge narrowed his eyes as Black looked at him with faux curiosity, something decidedly unpleasant in that nonchalant expression. Suddenly, everything felt much colder.  
  
  
“Okay!” Stretch banged his hands on the table loudly, jolting the still tense monsters into staring at him, “FIGHTing is where I’m drawing the line!”  
  
  
Black’s smile grew smug and knowing, “Well then! Your-”  
  
  
Before he could finish his sentence, Edge had Slim pinned to the table, steak knife to the throat. Before he could react, Red turned his soul blue, pinning him to his seat.   
  
  
Surprise wasn’t an expression either Swapfell brother displayed, like ever, but they were wide-eyed and mouth agape now.  
  
  
 _“Woah-!”  
  
  
_ “Fuckin’ freeze!” Red growled low and deep, threatening enough Stretch flinched despite himself. His smile was nasty, blue magic blazing in his right eye socket eerily, “S’delicate situation, n’be a real shame if some _metiche_ got puppydog **dusted.”  
  
  
** _“Red!”_ Blue looked a little nervous, “This is going too far!”  
  
  
“Sit yer pretty, bony butt down, Baby Blue.” Red winked at him, eyes never once leaving Black,  
  
  
“There’s something they say here, something about stones and glass houses?” Edge tapped the tip of the knife against Slim’s throat, shifting his position so he was sitting directly on the other Fell monster’s lumbar vertebra. “You think I _can’t_ FIGHT just because my magic’s blocked?”  
  
  
“C’mon-“  
  
  
The pressure increased enough Slim gave a startled wheeze, claws digging into the table as Edge held another knife just below his socket. When had he even grabbed those?! “You think I _won’t_ FIGHT just because I’m pregnant?” Black stiffened as he was addressed, even though Edge didn’t look up at him once.   
_  
  
“Sweetheart, you insult me._ I’ll do **_anything_** to keep Pancake safe,” Edge ran the knife tip along the circuit of the socket as Slim’s eyelights disappeared. He flicked his finger to deliver a shallow cut- enough to start dusting lightly, but not enough to scar. Probably.  
  
  
“Edge-“ Classic tried, wincing when Slim got another shallow cut in response.  
 _  
  
“Especially_ if you’re my enemies.” He made another cut on Slim’s lower eye. _“Are_ you my enemies?”  
  
  
“...No.” Black looked down to his side, browbones furrowed in seething fury even as he stopped struggling. Red kept a watchful eye on him anyway.  
  
  
Edge tilted his head, as though he hadn’t heard correctly, “Pardon?”  
  
  
Slim let out a sharp breath as the knife pressed down harder, a deeper cut extending from his forehead to his cheek. Actually, that looked a lot like Edge’s scar.  
 **  
  
“Edge!“**  
  
  
“No, General.” Black spoke loudly and clearly, eyes cold even as he sat up straighter. “We are **_not_** your enemies.”  
  
  
There was a tense silence as both Fell monsters stared each other down, but Black was the first to break. He tipped his head in what almost looked like a bow, moving easily enough despite the blue magic still gripping his soul.  
  
  
Edge looked confused for only a moment before tilting his head back, delicately putting the knife down. “Captain,” he held up his hand, pinky and ring finger folded but not quite touching his palm. Stretch had seen (and been on the receiving end) of that particular gesture many times- something between a peace offering and a blessing-  but Black looked just as mystified.  
  
  
Slim sat up quickly, ducking his head toward Red deeply as he slid back into his seat. His voice was tight with obvious tension, but undeniable relief as well, “Gamesman.”  
  
  
Red released his blue magic almost reluctantly, responding with the same hand gesture and a stiff nod, “Wardog.”  
  
  
As though a cloud had passed, the heavy mood around the table relaxed immediately. Black was out of his seat in an instant, standing next to his brother and checking his face. Slim had a long-suffering expression Stretch recognized well, obediently leaning over as Black regarded him with a... monocle. Checking his wounds? Wow, this was uncanny valley territory now-  
 _  
  
“You can’t just-!”_  
  
  
Edge leaned in so close he butted heads with Classic, sounding annoyed, “This is a **Fellverse matter-** your rules and niceties mean **_nothing_** here!”  
  
  
“This isn’t _a_ Fellverse! You can’t just behave like that- you **hurt** Slim!”Classic let out an annoyed huff, pushing back, “What you did was **criminal!** Actually criminal! Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t give you the /right/ to act anyway you want! You need to at least apologize-“  
  
  
“Don’t! Get! Involved!” Edge punctuated each word with a pointed jab to his chest, a lot more agitated now that Slim and Black we’re paying attention. “You don’t _understand,_ so I will let this slide. _But if you insist-“_  
  
  
Comic leaned on the table, “Is that a threat, Buddy Boy?”  
  
  
“Sans, _please,”_ Classic’s smile was cold, “I have this well in hand.“  
  
  
“Well, well, well!” Black was still standing, a hand on his hip and smug smile on his face, “I can certainly understand your frustrations, General! One must become particularly pent up when their commission and charge exists only on paper!” He drummed a hand on his chin thoughtfully, “There’s a term for that. Sofa something.”  
  
  
“Armchair-“ Stretch automatically corrected, immediately hunching in on himself as Edge glared at him. Too late. “The term is armchair general.”  
  
  
“I can see why you keep him around!” Black laughed boisterously, and if there wasn’t quite so much scorn in it, it might almost have been _nice._ “A dick-tionary, in both senses of the word, hm?”  
  
  
That must have been a double entendre- dick because he was helping his husband’s enemy with vocabulary? Was it also a sex thing cause Edge was pregnant? Both? That was kinda clever, admittedly.  
  
  
“As much as I would _love_ to stay and see you pick a fight with every skeleton here, not all of us can afford to take it quite as easy!” Edge’s good socket twitched in obvious irritation at the taunting. “Come along, Pochi- we’ve wasted too much time relaxing.”  
  
  
Slim got up without a word, ducking his head towards the table in obvious farewell. Before they got too far off in direction of the door, Edge was on his feet.  
  
  
“Black.“  
  
  
Black stopped immediately, but took a long moment to turn around, a definite wariness in the way he regarded Edge. It didn’t look like it was gonna get dicey, but Stretch got up and stood next to his husband anyway. That was more than enough posturing for one evening.  
  
  
Edge knelt, holding his hand out, much to Black’s obvious astonishment. The other skeleton eyed it dubiously, as though afraid of a joy buzzer, but eventually came forward and clasped it in a solid handshake.   
  
  
Maintaining eye contact as he smiled pleasantly, Edge's tone was dry, “Thank you for the joy of your company this evening.”  
  
  
Black smiled back, a little more amused and less tight than he intended, “Likewise.”  
  
  
Rising in a fluid motion, Edge rubbed at his back with affectation as he looked down pointedly. Like an asshole.  
  
  
Black’s socket twitched and his smile got sharper. He opened his mouth to say something- and nope! They were going to end this on a _good note,_ damn it!  
  
  
Stretch swept Slim into a big hug, literally lifting his counterpart off his feet. “Thanks for coming, Slim- it was good to see you! Let’s do it again sometime, with less knives!”  
  
  
The Fell monsters we’re looking at him with obvious surprise, but he hadn’t directly apologized, so he was still in the clear. He didn’t understand the nuances of this particular song and dance, but he knew not to step on Edge’s toes. “Don’t worry about the tab, we got you covered tonight.”  
  
  
Slim was still stiff, looking like he had never been hugged before in his life, nodding like a bobble head as he was put down. He didn’t say anything about the subtle healing magic directed at him, just felt around his now-healed socket in obvious wonder. That sent a pang through Stretch’s soul- was Slim really going to go back home all scratched up if he hadn’t just been fixed up?  
  
  
Stretch turned to Black with an easy smile instead, holding his arms open in obvious invitation, “Thanks for coming, buddy. We haven’t always _seen eye to eye_ but appreciate your support. We say goodbye to friends with hugs around here. When in Rome, right?”  
  
  
"Uh-" Black had to tilt his head up all the way to look Stretch in the eye, looking almost nervous, “I’m afraid my pending duties cannot wait any longer. Good evening to you both.” He turned sharply and made his way to the corner, pausing to look at his brother expectantly.   
  
  
Just as Slim was turning to leave, Edge reached forward to knuckle his skull, “Don’t insult me again- save your concern for someone who actually needs it. Next time, not even my husband will be able to help you.”  
  
  
Slim’s smile was warm, but he looked very serious as he whispered, “ _Kiotsu_ \- um. Still s’not safe.” Then he was gone, by his brother’s side with his gaze turned down and hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. Black gave him a cryptic look, but paused as he was about to leave, as though hit by a sudden afterthought.  
  
  
“Congratulations.”  
  
  
He disappeared quickly around the still active but smaller group on the dance floor, just barely visible as he opened the door to let Slim exit first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is two weeks late! oTL I wrote and re-wrote it, but I don't think I'll ever get it exactly how I want it, so this is just close enough. :'D
> 
> YEAH! Headcanon that the Underground is different according to the universes, resulting in cultural differences between universes- even mirror ones!
> 
> Underswap is the US!  
> Underfell is Latin America! (Ecuador mainly, but a sprinkling of other countries too! Lil' caribbean too!)  
> Swapfell is Southeast Asia! (Specifically Japan, but I'm trying to work in a little Korean and Chinese influences too)  
> Undertale?! Uh... Eur...ope...? Canada! (Sorry not sure ;;;)


	4. All's Well that End's... Well?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, of course now that the SwapFells are gone, they need to settle the score with the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really struggled with this one, and while I'm not satisfied with it, I just want to be done with it! So, a conclusion to this little outing? ;D
> 
> Sorry it took me so long! oTL
> 
> Also! My very talented friend Ryn has written several adorable drabbles about the RVR universe, featuring baby bones 'Pancake' and friends! It's so cute I die! Please check it out [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15916509?view_full_work=true)

_“No.”  
  
  
_ Edge abruptly returned to the table, gesturing over his shoulder incredulously as he stared at Red.  
 _  
  
“Huevón!”_ Red slammed his fist into the table, smiling broadly. Everyone jumped, but there was a note of admiration in his voice, “Whatta _bitch!_ Hate that guy! The fuck! Congrat- _fuckin’_ -lations!”  
  
  
“What does that **_mean?”_** Edge hummed in absentminded agreement, drumming his fingers on his crossed arms restlessly, _“Así no más?_ They let it drop, and we win?” He didn’t wait for Red to answer, shifting with nervous energy. “Ugh, we’re so out of practice, and they’re so _weird_ about it!”  
  
  
“Rrrelax, Ñaño.” Red shrugged nonchalantly, an easy smile on his face, “Do what we do. Wait ‘n see ‘n fuck ‘em up if necessitated, yeah?”  
  
  
“Yeah...” Edge didn’t look convinced, but he sighed as Stretch put an arm around his shoulders. His mouth quickly quirked into a smile as he put his arm around his husband’s waist, sounding pleased, “You were _fantastic!_ Truly a ‘charm’ offensive!”  
  
  
“BOSSASS, Stretch!” Red’s smile stretched even wider as he banged his hands down again, pointing at him approvingly. “Ya healed Pup! Goddamn! Then tell lil’ bastard to fuck off with a /hug!”/  
  
  
“Black didn’t know what to make of that!” Edge sounded gleeful, a mischievous sparkle in his socket as he turned to Red with a smirk. He kept his arm around Stretch’s waist in an unusually public display of prolonged affection, so he must have been really impressed. “I thought he was actually going to accept out of spite!”  
  
  
“Hell yeah!” Red gestured that his mind was blown, “Lil’ bastard ain’t know who he’s fuckin’ with! Stretch’s rock ** _solid!“_** ** _  
_**  
  
Edge scoffed, “He’s soft by choice, not lack of ability- as I’ve told you hundreds of times!”  
  
  
“Whatever,” Red drawled, resting his chin and looking bored, “Yer biased as fuck. Damn! Now I wanna fuck somethin’ up! Ya any good to rumble, Stretch?”  
  
  
“Of **_course_** he is!” Edge looked insulted, “You think I would _marry_ someone who **_wasn’t?!”_**  
  
  
“Ah, yes,” Classic leaned back and played with the straw in his drink absently, “You two like to talk about not so good things like they are very good things, even though they absolutely are not.”  
  
  
“I’m not taking _any_ shit from you!” Edge’s demeanor snapped into something more hostile as he turned towards Classic, pulling away to point at him dramatically. “What the _fuck_ were you _thinking?!_ You _tryin’_ to get me dusted?!”  
  
  
Classic’s eyes bulged out of his sockets, spitting out the mouthful of his drink on the table, “Hah?!”  
  
  
Red pointedly leaned over, holding a napkin daintily as he dabbed at the spot. He cleared his throat, pitching his voice higher in obvious imitation of Classic, “Let me just-“  
  
  
Blue jabbed him in the ribs hard enough Red hit the table with a bang, “Knock it off, asshole! Haven’t you had your fill of violence and arguments yet?!”  
  
  
“Nope!” He answered petulantly, throwing the napkin in Blue’s face. “And _you_ hush up, **backstabber!”**  
 _  
  
“Me?!”_  
  
  
“Yeah!” Red gestured at the door with palpable frustration, “Ya cain’t speak ‘gainst me till _after_ they gone! Ya tryin’ to get **_me_** killed? Yer **_bro’s hubby?!_** Yer own **_goddamn fuckin’ sobrino?!”_**  
  
  
Blue blanched.  
  
  
“No?!” Red sneered, turning away with palpable disgust, “Then shut up ‘n _listen_ fer once in yer fuckin’ life!”  
  
  
“I-“ Classic gestured at himself haplessly, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about?!”  
  
  
“I just _told_ you!” Edge let out an angry huff, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s a Fellverse thing! Magic is _everything_ to Fell! If I can’t use my magic, I’m ** _weak!_** If I’m weak, I can’t protect nothing I got!”   
  
  
“Yeah!” Red crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring his brother with a sour expression, “Then everythin’s up fer swipin’, includin’ Honey ‘n the brat! S’when whose backin’ ya up gotta look real dread! If y’ain’t _look_ united, then y’ain’t shit! So they don’t got not reason to hold back, ya dig?”  
  
  
Classic looked almost queasy, “Black and Slim would never-“  
  
  
“I don’t fuck with chance!” Edge slammed his fist into the table, looking angry, “I don’t know where they stand or what they want, so I had to make _myself_ clear! My...” Edge glanced at Stretch, drawing a line with his finger.  
  
  
“Line in the sand.” Stretch did not want to be drawn into this _at all._ He sat down and slid over to his old spot as unobtrusively as possible.  
  
  
“Of course, **_now_** you’re helpful!” Edge still complained loudly, shaking his head. He was mostly talking to Classic, but made sure to look at Blue too, “At least _wait_ until _mi hijuepu_ **_enemies_** are gone before you are **_questioning_** me! And! _Por el amor del Ángel,_ don’t ever ask me to **_apologize!_** _Carever-“_  
 _  
  
“Ojo!”_ Red’s voice took on an oddly stern tone, “Ain’t no need t’be /nasty./ If they ain’t gonna help, they gonna sit pretty ‘n stay outta it, right?”  
  
  
The Fell monster didn’t look the least bit abashed at all the incredulous looks. Which was maybe to be expected, but was still incredibly surreal. Red scolding anyone, let alone Edge, about their **_language?_**  
  
  
“Yeah?” Red prompted again, moving his hand in impatient circles. “Baby Blue?”  
  
  
“Ok.” Blue nodded quickly, still not quite able to meet Edge’s eyelights, “I won’t get involved. ...Sorry.”  
  
  
Stretch didn’t like this- he wasn’t sure what Edge and Red we’re trying to prove against _Classic_ and _Blue_ of all people- but he _knew_ he couldn’t say anything. Even if it seemed excessive, Edge was acting out of a sense of paternal duty and insecurity. Especially after those impassioned lectures of being publicly supportive, he wasn’t sure what he _could_ do...   
  
  
“Class-“ Red started to say, only to be cut off by a sound that was equal parts distressed and irritated.  
  
  
“I don’t want to answer!” Classic shook his head, a stubborn set to his unsure smile, “I can’t give you my blanket approval- because I do **not** approve! And I **cannot** condone the use of such forceful methods!” He sighed heavily, looking tired, “You could have handled things with Slim much, much better, Edge! You didn’t need to escalate it to violence- and just because Stretch healed him doesn’t mean it didn’t happen! I think if you just-“  
  
  
 _“Papyrus,”_ Edge leaned on his hands, an undertone of frustration to every punctuated word, “I’m not asking for your ** _permission-_** I’m going to do **_whatever_** I feel is necessary to keep my baby **_safe.”_**  
  
  
Comic cracked open one socket, but didn’t entirely drop his pretense of sleeping, “Don’t you think you’re worried about the wrong guy?”  
  
  
The Fell monsters exchanged a look. “Nah, ‘cause the Lil’ Tyrant gave _in,_ ‘n so they gave us an _out.”_ Red put his face in his hands, worrying at his sockets restlessly, “They’re ‘duty bound’ to be ‘not enemies.’ Honor ain’t mean nuthin’ back home, but them Swapfell’s’re different ‘bout that shit. Sides, Puppydog ‘n us got history.”  
  
  
“Oh?” Comic closed his socket with a nonchalant shrug, “Guess honor’s not for chumps, and his goody-two shoes act _is_ believable.”  
  
  
Equal parts impressed and annoyed, Red’s grin was razor sharp, “Point is, _esfinge,_ that we know Fell, ‘n we know what they’re gonna do. The real concern’s both of yas.” He pointed at both of them with the same hand, “When shit hits, what’cha gonna do?”  
  
  
Edge crossed his arms over his chest, eyelight bright and focused, “I just need to know if I need to protect Pancake from **_you.”_**  
  
  
Classic put his head down into his hands, muffling what sounded like a frustrated scream. Which, fair enough- Stretch has no idea how he would handle being on the receiving end of this. Just as quickly, Classic was sitting up again, looking like he had just come up with a brilliant idea.  
  
  
“How about a compromise?” He asked brightly, “I know you know that I would never, ever purposely hurt your babybones! And I absolutely would never ever want to inadvertently cause them harm!”  
  
  
He crossed his arms, looking torn, “But I can’t just sit here while you maim, humiliate, or otherwise fight with someone _just_ because they make you nervous! That’s a terrible way to handle feelings of anxiety, and will undoubtedly lead to more problems than it solves! So, let’s just **not!”**  
  
  
Edge tilted his head, looking cautiously curious, “Not what?”  
  
  
“Not stay! Let’s just leave! You can tell me you don’t feel safe, and I will escort you out to make sure no one lays a hand on you or Pancake!” Classic held up a hand at the dubious expressions he was receiving, literally waving concerns off, “Let me finish! That way, you can **stay** physically safe and **feel** safe, too! And it will still give you the ability to rectify bad behavior- if these people won’t respect your wishes, then they are probably people you don’t want around Pancake right now anyway.”  
  
  
Classic puffed out his chest with a broad smile, “If it makes you feel better, I can also guarantee I will do my best to find a solution while you are not there! You see, I am very good at conflict mediation, and very stubborn! And Sans is very good at getting out of situations he doesn’t want to be in, so **he** can guarantee a quick retreat!”  
  
  
“So...” Edge’s expression soured, “You want me to flee-“  
  
  
“He wants to be your bodyguard.” Stretch cleared his throat, still not sure if he should comment, but it seemed innocuous enough. “Hustle you out of danger until the coast is clear.”  
 _  
  
That_ changed their attitude. Edge finally sat down next to his husband, arms still right over his chest as he looked at Red. “Bodyguard.”  
  
  
“Maybe.” Red drummed his fingers on the table, “Switch it. Y’ain’t _gotta_ get your own claws dirty, good, ‘n he’s pretty reliable. ‘N tall...”  
  
  
“I am all of those things!” Classic agreed with a proud toss of his head.  
  
  
“It would never work with Fell.” Edge started cracking his knuckles, looking down at the tabletop, “They wouldn’t-“  
  
  
“Ain’t no _Fell!”_ Red whistled loudly to get get his brother’s attention, “Puppydog ‘n Lil’tyrant ain’t no challenge no more, d’fuck else ya worryin’ ‘bout, huh? Ghosts?”  
  
  
For whatever reason, Edge flinched at that. Hard.  
  
  
“Edge.” Classic’s voice was gentle. “I won’t let you down.” He slipped off his glove, holding his pinkie out with an unusually solemn expression, “I **_promise_** I won’t let Pancake get hurt under my watch.”  
  
  
The Fell monster sighed, long and weary, but hooked his own pinkie back, “I’ll let you try. If I need to get involved afterwards, I **_will-_** but fine. I’ll let you try first.”  
  
  
When he made a move to pull back, Classic kept his hand in place. “Sans!” He hissed to his side, jostling his brother with his elbow, “You too.”  
  
  
Comic took his sweet time sitting up and reaching over to hook his own finger around Edge’s finger. “I’ll back Pap up, and getcha out. If I need to.” He said simply, expression carefully neutral. Well, that was about what Stretch expected- Red didn’t look surprised either.  
  
  
Comic pulled back a moment later, resettling himself on the cushions with a sigh, “But you should know _who_ your friends are by now.”  
  
  
“Yes, fine, friends-“ Edge tried to shrug the comment off, but it clearly bothered him enough he felt the need to justify himself. “But I _can’t_ take the same risks as if it were just **_me.”_** He managed to keep himself from touching his scarred socket, but he picked at the scars on his knuckles absently, “Friends can still hurt you, even if they don’t mean to- sometimes they’re even **_worse_** than enemies. If I’m wrong-“  
  
  
“Yeah, well-“ Stretch cut in with a cough, putting a discreet arm around his husband’s waist, “We do what we gotta do to protect ourselves and the people we love, right?” Edge didn’t give him much of a reaction, but didn’t resist as he was tugged a little closer.   
  
  
“We never actually _toasted_ Pancake yet, did we?” Blue was unusually hesitant, still chastened from earlier, but clearly desperate for a topic change. “We should!”  
  
  
“Yes!” Classic clapped his hands, looking absolutely delighted, “A toast for the baby! And, because I know how much Edge values action over words-“ He opened up his STAT menu, withdrawing 200 g from his gold pouch. “I will fund it!”  
  
  
“Hell fuckin’ yeah-“ Red perked up immediately, moving his mug to his new spot with magic, “Gonna get _chumado_ as fuuuuck-“ He poured the remainder of Black’s drink in his mug, and moved Slim’s glass closer.  
  
  
Classic put the gold on the table with obvious flourish, pushing it in their direction, “A gift from us- mostly me, but this is technically everyone else’s money, too-to you... all! Happy impending babybone’s birthday!”  
  
  
“I-“ Edge looked surprised for a moment, touched and guilty and confused rolled into a too open expression, before he buried it down with a devious smirk. “How very generous!”   
  
  
He curled his hands under his chin like a cartoon villain, tone innocent in a way that could only be deceptive, “I can only wonder how you’ll top **_this_** at Pancake’s shower party! I’m looking forward to see what kind of unique and lavish gift you’ll bring, ‘Uncle Classic.’”  
 _  
  
“Uncle?!”_ Classic’s expression lit up, eyes becoming large hearts as he gasped dramatically. “I get to be _**Uncle Classic?!”**_  
  
  
“If you want,” Stretch barely managed to suppress a relieved sigh, glad everything seemed to be much less tense, “Unless you wanna be called something else?” He glanced at Blue and Red, but neither seemed to be particularly bothered by sharing that title. “We were thinking ‘Sir’ might be fun too, like a knight or something-“  
  
  
“Wowie, __Sir Papyrus!” Classic’s eyes positively sparkled, “I’ve always dreamed of being a knight!” He shook himself free of the sparkles- literally, although Comic didn’t seem to mind having some on the top of his head- before continuing earnestly, “Of course! I cannot let Pancake down! I will get them the absolute best present of them all!  
  
  
“Because! I am great at a good many things, especially creating artificially high standards that are difficult to reach! By everyone, sometime including even me!” Classic smiled broadly before his face became incredibly blank, “What Even is this? A baby what?”  
  
  
“A baby shower! It’s a human tradition!” Blue perked up and launched into a long, detailed explanation Stretch started to tune out immediately. This was more of what he had been hoping for the entire evening, honestly- he was relieved everyone seemed to be getting along again and having a good time.  
  
  
Well, almost everyone. Edge always had a tendency to lay his acting on a little too thick when he was preoccupied, and there was stiff tension to his spine. Stretch would be looking into that at the end of the night. (early tomorrow morning?)   
  
  
For now, though, he was content to enjoy warm conversation with good company and this delicious honey mead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me y'all!


	5. STS CHK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss and makeup, not in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally get to end this installment thank goodness. :’D 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me! Sorry it took me so long! Lots of notes at the bottom!

It wasn’t until Edge had given him a piggy back from the car and into the apartment that Stretch remembered to bring up his concerns.  
  
  
“You ok?” He asked, half-hanging over his husband’s shoulder as he watched Edge struggle to undo the complicated knot on his left- no, _other left_ high top. He was _knot_ very good at this, hehehe~

  
  
“Of course!” Edge managed to pull it off eventually, pausing only to make sure Stretch wouldn’t fall off, before working on the other one. “Skeleton’s are very light! This is a very short distance!” His fingers slipped against the knot as he let out a frustrated huff, “I am fine- don’t underestimate me!”

  
  
“No, I mean-“ Stretch couldn’t think of the right word, reaching over instead to poke at Edge’s chest, _“Here.”_ He ended up misjudging where the bone was and ended up poking his husband’s shirt into the space between his ribs. He poked the fabric through a few other ribs until Edge batted his hand away, staring at his own toes dumbly. 

  
  
Why didn’t the ectobody extend to fill in those spaces? Make a whole body suit or just some boobs? Why just the stomach-

  
  
“You’re not a mammal,” He told Edge seriously, not sure when he got to the couch, but more than happy to be sitting. He was even happier to hold the bundle of clothes he was handed. “And babies eat magic food.”

  
  
“Huh? You’re such a weird drunk,” Edge told him wryly, tugging off his husband’s hoodie and folding it to the side, before doing the same with the shirt. It wasn’t until Stretch had his head in his pajama shirt that he remembered his original question.  
  
  
“I’m asking about your heart, man, does it hurt?” He asked as Edge pulled the fabric over his arms, flailing ineffectually as his shorts were stripped off. Then everything else.  
  
  
“My heart?” Edge draped the tights over his arm as he tied the drawstring of his husband’s pajama pants in place, “No. Does **_your_** heart hurt?” He put a hand on Stretch’s head, gently massaging along his skull, “Maybe next time you won’t drink so much-“   
  
  
Stretch closed his eyes with a content sigh, but he could _hear_ the grin in that lilting tone, “But I hope you will. I enjoyed that ABBA duet with my brother~”  
  
  
“Ok,” Stretch agreed readily enough, “Love singing, like you-” Wait, was that right? Well, Edge laughed, so it couldn’t have been _that_ far off. He liked that sound a lot.  
  
  
“Thank you, Papí,” Grabbing him under his elbows, Edge hauled him to his feet with a grunt, “Time for bed.”  
  
  
“Oh my god, I love the bed!” Stretch told his husband enthusiastically, letting himself be led into the room. “It’s so good for sleeping! I love sleeping so much, it’s my favorite thing! I could sleep like all day everyday, and when I was younger I used to want to never wake up, you know? But this is great, bedtime is a great time-“ It wasn’t until he was put on the bed, playing with the  feather-filled comforter Edge had the peeled back, that he remembered his very important question.  
  
  
When Edge started to gently lay him down, Stretch grabbed his arm and looked at him intently, “Are you like really bummed out? You weren’t happy earlier. Are you still unhappy? Can I help? I don’t want you to feel bad. Is it my fault?”  
  
  
“Of course not,” Edge answered him with a fond shake of his head, pushing him into the mattress and starting to tuck him in. “You need to sleep this off, baby. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”  
  
  
“Okay,“ He sighed as his husband kissed him on the forehead, feeling like he could drift off then and there. That sounded like a very good idea now.  
  
  
“I’m sorry I ruined your evening, Papa Bear,” Edge sighed against his skull, gently patting his chest, “It wasn’t even _worth_ it. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”  
  
  
Damn. Even with the pleasant buzz of magic making his sockets feel heavy and tongue clumsy, Stretch couldn’t possibly sleep **_now._**  
  
  
He struggled to sit up, pinned in place by the very thorough job Edge did with the sheets, “No-“ Too hard to talk and reason when his thoughts were so scattered and he was so sleepy, “I need the fixer thing. The thing that makes you not drunk. The thing that helps with the thinking and talking.”  
  
  
“A Panacea?” Bless him, Edge knew exactly what he wanted- even if he didn’t look _pleased_ at the prospect. “I don’t think you should. It’s better if you just sleep it off, Papí-“  
  
  
“Nooooo-“ Stretch managed to free an arm, tugging at the blankets ineffectually. “My brain needs help~” Damn, he was supposed to be **strong** one here, why wouldn’t the bed let him go? He loved the bed, sure, but he was already married-  
  
  
The next thing he knew, Edge was freeing him from the sheets and sitting him back up, pushing a very, very bitter jelly into his mouth.   
**  
**  
Bleh! Panaceas was the very best monster magic had to offer- they fully restored HP and got rid of any lingering status effects- but they tasted so _bad._ Stretch curled in on himself as he felt his bones burn and then freeze, static reverberating in his skull and a deep soreness that made his soul feel heavy. In an instant, it all vanished, and he felt better than ever.  
  
  
“Ok, ok, I’m good!” He stretched his back, popping his vertebrae with an energized sigh, “So, Babe, about earlier-“  
  
  
Edge CHECKed him before he could finish the sentence.  
**  
**  
“Stretch” PAPYRUS **  
** **HP 20/15** **  
** **ATK 2  DEF 5** **  
** **STS: NRML** **  
** **WPN: N/A** **  
** **RMR: Flo Mail** **  
** ***Your goofy (loving) husband** **  
** ***Feeling 100% better! And 60% worried!**  
  
  
“Wow, you went for the deep CHECK, huh?” Stretch waited impatiently for his husband to finish. “Didn’t believe it worked?”  
  
  
“You’re don’t have a weapon equipped!” Clearly annoyed, Edge opened his own menu to look through his inventory. “That’s _too_ relaxed, Stretch! You never know-“  
  
  
“Tell you what,” Stretch scooted closer and leaned over to close his husband’s screen, “I’ll equip an ATK item if you’ll sit and listen to me for a bit, ok?”  
  
  
Suspicious and skeptical, Edge nodded nonetheless, “Fine.”  
  
  
“Babe,” Stretch started with a sigh, taking his husband’s hand and pressing a kiss to the palm, “I don’t want you to feel bad about tonight, ok? You did what you needed to do to protect yourself and Pancake, based off of what you knew in Underfell-“  
  
  
“But this **_isn’t_** Underfell!” Edge sounded frustrated, letting his head drop on his husband’s shoulder. “Which means that was all **pointless** and **stupid-!”**  
  
  
“It’s not stupid if it’s important to you.” Stretch held him in a loose hug, gently petting down his back. “Just because we don’t always _understand_ doesn’t mean it’s **wrong,** and it absolutely isn’t _bad-“_  
  
  
“It **is** bad.” Edge shifted so he was sitting on his husband’s lap, his arms tight around broader shoulders. He sounded so tired as he pressed his forehead against the side of Stretch’s skull. “Underfell is a bad and violent place, filled with bad and violent monsters. **_They_** think it is. **_You_** think it is, too, you just don’t say it-“  
  
  
“That’s not true!” Stretch pressed a kiss to the side of Edge’s skull as he held him tight, “I _know_ you’re a good guy, and yeah you don’t shy away from violence, but you’re careful. You’d never hurt anyone without a good reason, and even then, you still hold back. Slim was perfectly fine!”  
  
  
He kept rubbing Edge’s back, making sure there was loving intent in every deliberate touch, “Everything’s in shades of gray, Love, in Underfell and _here,_ too. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I doubted you- I don’t always know **_your_** context, so sometimes I react according to **_mine._** So, let’s do better next time, okay?”  
  
  
Stretch cupped his husband’s cheeks, leaning forward to nuzzle him gently. Edge leaned into his touch, dropping one hand to press against his husband’s rib cage, just above the soul. “We both want what’s best for Pancake, so we’re just doing what feels right based on what we saw growing up, right?”  
  
  
Edge nodded, using his thumb to pet at Stretch’s sternum. “We just gotta start talking about this stuff a little more. Clearly lay out our expectations, wants, needs, fears for the future- all that jazz. For the rest of this pregnancy, all the big and small events in between, and...” He felt his soul stutter at the thought of actually having to _raise_ and _take care of_ a bonafide babybones, but he pushed his unease deep, deep down, “Ever after, too.”   
  
  
Edge closed his eyes, “Yes. That’s-“  
  
  
“And for the record,” Stretch focused on Edge and the here and now, “Who cares what Classic or Black or even _Blue and Red_ and anyone else thinks?” His husband looked stunned, and honestly, he didn’t know those words would come to him so easily either, “You’re _my_ husband, so _I_ know, firsthand, exactly how nurturing you are.”   
  
  
He pulled Edge closer with one arm, using the other to run his thumb along sharp cheekbones, “I _know_ you’re gonna be the best Dad ever, and all of Pancake’s friends are gonna wish their parents were half as cool, caring, and loving as you’re gonna be. As you **_are.”_**  
  
  
Stretch slipped his hand lower, pinching an iliac crest with a sultry murmur, “And all the parents are gonna wish they were half as hot.”  
  
  
Edge kissed him, “I love you,” He whispered breathlessly between kisses, cupping Stretch’s face, “Very much. _The most._ I should say it more.”  
  
  
Stretch hummed appreciatively, enjoying the featherlight, teasing touches along his ribs and deepening kisses, “No need. You show it.”  
  
  
Before Stretch knew what was happening, he found himself staring up at the ceiling as he was pushed onto his back. Edge straddled his hips, grounding down in a way sent a growing rush of heat down his body.   
  
  
The hooded look his husband was giving him, eyeing him with that predatory smirk as he slipped off that leather jacket, made his mouth feel bone dry.  
  
  
Stretch swallowed thickly when Edge pinned his wrists above his head, whispering directly into the side of his skull, “Let me show you just how much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Subtle Headcanons in this chapter:  
> 1- For skeletons (and all other monster types,) pregnancies do not result in any kinds of breasts. Monsters eat magic, and once a souling has fully developed, they would have no need to absorb magic directly from their parents’ body and would just eat regular magic food. (Potentially pureed for some monster types!)  
> 2- Monsters can get status effects! Unlike humans, these effects persist in their body even after BATTLE, and can be caused by consuming some items and other conditions. (If Edge were checked, his status would be PREG.)  
> 3- A Panacea is basically a full restore!  
> 4 - Flo Mail is short for Flowey Chainmail! The swap counterpart of Tem armor and the highest in monster defense equipment!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos! I really appreciate your support! <3
> 
> Red Velvet Reel has a [tumblr](https://redvelvetreel.tumblr.com/) now! Come say hi! <3


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